Wings
by MerlinOfTheShire
Summary: A spell is cast by an unknown enemy, causing all angel wings to manifest into the physical realm. Pretty soon, missing angels start turning up dead with their wings severed from their backs. It was only a matter of time before Castiel went missing too.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters, I only own the plot, and any oc's.**

**Hypothetically let's just assume that after the fall, angels' wings are not as damaged as the show, well, shows.**

**The story takes place in season 10 after episode 18.**

* * *

_Wings_

Holy fire flicked red and hot at his feet, trapping him in a fiery red circle, defenceless to his black-eyed captor. He felt such a fool to let himself lose his blade; be _captured _by such hellspawn, but for what purpose? He did not know. He had been summoned, tricked. Trapped in some abandoned warehouse. The demon had said nothing as of yet; he had kept his back turned, scanning over something. Muttering. His 'soul' was monstrous, black, evil, and impure. He was a demon of higher rank, that much was clear. Ugly filth.

The demon began to mutter something; something too pure to escape the lips of such a creature. Enochian. _That should not be possible._ No demon he could remember knew the language of the angels. It was secret to angels and God; so one of them must have spilled. "Who taught you that?"

The demon paused, "oh, you know, a servant of evil to some, justice to others." It went back to speaking Enochian, violating the words with its vial tongue. He did not yet know what he was saying.

"That does not answer my question."

It chuckled, finishing whatever it was saying, "Well, let's just say they learnt a little something from that angel tablet," he gestured at something.

He frowned, turning his gaze away for just a moment to were the demon had indicated, and what he saw chilled him to this vessels bones. "They could not have- the tablet was destroyed!"

The demon took something long and silver of the table. His angel _blade. How dare a demon touch such a pure weapon._ It began to mutter something else. He realised what he was saying. No… "What are you-" Suddenly, he found he could not move.

The demon stepped over the holy oil, unharmed; he was far too close. "The spell works across all angels you know- and now everybody is going to know you are here. Fighting your lot just got a whole lot easier."

With that, it brought the blade down.

The angel screamed.

* * *

The bunker was beginning to feel like home. Though, Cas supposed the only place that was his home was where Sam and Dean were, whether it be a hotel room, the Impala, or the Bunker. Nevertheless, the current time frequently signalled the wake of the Winchester brothers, unless there was a case or alcohol involved. With his grace somewhat restored, and his wings back, he no longer needed to sleep. He simply waited while the brothers rested, either by watching Dean or by sitting in his own room. Unless he too had to attend to other matters. Other matters normally involved finding a way to rid Dean of the Mark of Cain. So far, he had been unsuccessful.

So, he got up, stretched the remnants wings, and made his way to the kitchen, where he knew the brothers would be. He imagined that Dean would likely be drinking alcohol again, not coping with the mark, and Sam not eating much at all. Sam would have likely taken longer to get to the kitchen as he preferred to attend to grooming rituals before he ate.

As Cas entered the room dedicated to consumption, the wafting smell of coffee and toast entered his nose, and he felt himself long for the ability to taste again. Though, he would not trade his grace for it. The coffee surprised him; it was an improvement. The brothers were otherwise as he had predicted, though Sam was not seated at the table, focussed on finding a way to help Dean. Instead, he was standing, frozen; gaze fixed on him. Cas tilted his head, "Sam?"

Sam appeared half amazed and half shocked. At what, Cas was not entirely certain. He couldn't remember changing anything of his appearance that might startle the brothers.

Sam gave a half smile at him, "Dean look."

Dean shook his head, drawing his attention away from his breakfast to look at Sam, "at what?"

Sam pointed, and Dean turned his gaze to him. His back straightened. "Woah. Nice wings, Cas."

_What… how?_ In confusion, he turned his head. _They should not-_ and there they were. His pair of massive, mangled wings. Visible, and black. They were folded, as he always did inside the bunker- having such a large wingspan could prove hindering in terms of finesse, even in their current state. Unfortunately, they seemed to have ripped through his coat. He frowned, "I don't understand; they are not meant to be visible to the human eye."

Dean got up, coffee in hand, eyes wandering over his damaged wings, "then why can we see them now?"

He squirmed under Dean's gaze, pulling his wings in tighter. He did not want Dean to see him like this, "I don't know… please stop looking; they are… impure."

Dean frowned, brow squinted. "What, why? They're amazing. Sure, they are a little weather-worn, but their friggen wings man.

He shook his head; brushing off the compliment, Dean didn't understand. "They are a manifestation of my grace, Dean, or whatever was left of it. They were damaged by events... as my grace was." _But that isn't what I am talking about._

Both the brothers seemed to understand what he meant. A look of guilt flashed over their faces for a moment; it lingered longer on Sam. Dean, however, soon smiled, and his face turned… warmer? "Well, I think they're beautiful Cas," he said.

He felt his feathers ruffle against his will; he let them unfold slightly, a shiver running down them "I- uh- "

Sam suddenly clapped his hands together, "right well. I think now might be a really good time for me to get some milk," he said, before promptly making his way to the door that led to the garage.

He frowned, head tilted in confusion, "Dean I don't understand. There is plenty of milk in the fridge; Sam did not need to leave."

Dean was suddenly bright red, and he was rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "Don't worry about it Cas."

"Okay, Dean."

* * *

Having reached the nearest town, and having gone for a long walk, Sam decided he had better get some milk, for continuities sake. He wondered when his brother would grow a pair and make a move. He shook his head and continued down to the closest store that stocked in-date milk.

A more troubling matter was Cas' wings. Another problem that had to deal with; if it was a problem, that is. Cas had said they were a physical manifestation of his grace, so maybe they worked a bit like hellhounds, only _purer_. Hellhounds were a manifestation of evil, and only visible under certain circumstances. _So what made them visible?_ That, he didn't know yet. He supposed he would have to hit the books, like always. Though, there was something nagging in the back of his mind, a possible explanation. For some reason, he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

It would be quite interesting, seeing Cas hanging around with his wings out. They seemed to work a bit like bird wings, and behaved the same way in terms of indicating emotion. _Good luck hiding your feelings for Dean now_, he couldn't help but think. He supposed, however, that Cas had never really hidden his feelings. Dean just wasn't really good at accepting or recognising that kind of thing. He seemed to limit himself to pick up lines as a sign of attraction. He was certain that Dean felt something for Cas, but he didn't think it was being in the closet that was stopping him anymore. He was probably afraid Cas didn't feel the same, and vice versa. But deep down he believed that the two did know, but were just afraid. _Maybe I should teach Cas some pick-up lines_, he thought humouredly.

Shaking his head, he turned the corner to a large crowd of people of all ages, all with their phones out; at the centre of the crowd was a man on a pedestal. Things scatted at his feet. He seemed to be having quite the effect on the crowd. Curious, he made his way over.

The man on the stool made a wide gesture with his arm, "it is true, angels live among us!"

_Okay. Not good._ He took his own phone out and went into video.

"They are evil creatures. Not servants of heaven! God does not protect them; for they did not protect us!"

Not all of them, he thought, thinking of Cas, Anna, Joshua, Samandrial, and maybe even Gabriel. Though, the crowd seemed to agree with the man, judging by their reaction.

"Where were they when our children are dying? Our countries at war?"

Someone in the crowd called out, "not here!"

_Where is he going with this?_ He wondered.

"And I have proof!" the man reached down for something, seemingly covered. The crowd gasped, and Sam felt his blood run cold.

The man held up a great, white wing. Its feathers were bent in all the wrong directions, and some of the larger ones were missing. Some parts of the flesh didn't have any feathers at all. They were_ fallen_, like Cas' were. Blood had dried when the wing would have once been joined to the angel. "God has given us a gift, for now, we can see their wings, and defeat them!" The man seemed to take in the crowd's reaction, drawing a deep, satisfied breath, "and I can tell you how to defeat them, for it is also possible."

_Shit. _The man didn't seem to be much, but so many people were listening, and filming. If the man truly did know what he was talking about, Cas was in danger. They all were. The man needed to be stopped. _But how?_He couldn't just take him out, not with this many supporters. He wouldn't make it out alive. Maybe.

And if was true, that all angel's wings were visible, it was small wonder the crowd showed no scepticism and a big problem for the angels.

"Holy Oil can trap them, if made into a circle," the man grabbed something else. Holy oil, Sam realised as the man poured it over the wing, "it can burn them too," he set it alight.

Sam felt sick as he watched the white feathers turn a dark coal black. _Like Cas_, he realised. The feather soon started to sinder and flake away, leaving charred flesh underneath. The smell made him want to retch- someone in the crowd did.

"Only three things can kill an angel," the man said, "God, and he isn't going to be doing that."

The crowd hummed in agreement.

"Two, angels; that doesn't happen too often."

Sam almost scoffed. _You would be surprised._

"And three, their own weapons," the man said, reaching for something else. An angel blade. "You find an angel; you find it's blade.

Not needing to hear much more, Sam made his escape, stopping the recording. He made a call. "Dean, I think we have a problem."

* * *

"I don't understand, where is the milk?"

He shook his head, flushed "never mind that Cas, we have a problem on our hands. Another one." The video proved that all too well. He hadn't quite believed what Sam was saying over the phone; the 'preacher' could have just been off his meds, or so he had hoped. He turned to his brother, hoping to find some answers; he always seemed to be able to pull facts out the place where light didn't shine. "How do you think he came across all that lore?"

Sam shrugged, taking a seat, "I don't know, maybe he was a hunter, out for revenge. Maybe he was a demon; he could be anything."

That was true; the video didn't show too much, no changing eyes. They couldn't exactly test the video to see if it was a demon or something else… could they. He'd have to look into that later. "Did you test him?"

Sam's shoulders went up, like they always did when he was frustrated and yet embarrassed about something. "I tried to follow him after I called you, but he slipped me."

"He slipped you?"

Cas's wings flared up, and not in a friendly way, "maybe it _was_ a demon."

He ran his hand over his chin, "maybe. That would explain why he wants you all dead."

Cas's wings tightened, "but It doesn't explain how it did this to _my brethren_. This _violation _of our grace."

A thought occurred to him, "can you turn them invisible again?"

Cas squinted his eyes, wings flaring again, "do you really think I haven't tried that already."

Dean winced; he didn't like seeing Cas like this, all on edge. He guessed that wings were a personal thing, probably because they were a manifestation of his grace, as Cas had said. He knew why Cas was so sensitive about his wings, damaged grace equalled damaged wings. What he didn't get was why Cas thought they were impure. Sure, Cas had done some things, but he had the best intentions. He was the furthest thing from impure that he knew.

_Myself, on the other hand…_ He scratched absentmindedly at the mark.

Plus, they were wings, great, beautiful wings. He had always kind of wanted to see them. _Say something, dammit_, a not so quiet voice inside him said.

Before he had the chance, Sam broke the silence, "can you sense him in the town, Cas?"

The angel in question shook his head, "no; he must be using something to hide himself, or he isn't a demon."

His brother frowned, "could he be a human, hiding himself from you?"

Cas nodded in confirmation, "yes."

Dean sighed, "well, we got work to do."

* * *

Two of the 'weeks' that humans used to measure time had passed, Dean still had the mark, and his wings were still physically manifested. He had grown somewhat used to it; having them visible made it easier to be aware of where they were. Bumping into things was becoming less frequent. He did not like to look at them; they disgusted him.

Cas didn't like the brothers looking at them, particularly Dean, who seemed insistent on doing that very thing. Dean wasn't repulsed though, which surprised him. Dean looked at them more in _awe_, which surprised him more.

He felt that if Dean truly knew what their appearance meant, he would not look at them so.

The younger of the brothers, however, just seemed fascinated with them, which was… understandable. Sam always had an interest in learning all things lore. Sam had been researching relentlessly for a way to reverse what had happened, and also seemed to find it relevant to teach him 'pick-up lines', and something about 'Han Solo.'

Dean had been tracking the man in the video; it was definitely the first to preach such information to the public. So far it had slipped away right before they reached it _thrice._ The scene that Sam had filmed had also been recorded by many others, and had spread all over the internet, particularly the 'tube of you.' The videos were gaining too much attention, and so were his brethren in turn. Many angels were turning up dead, either on the news, in the town, or somewhere on the planet.

They were being hunted, like beasts.

He cancelled out of the online news article, reporting the death of another angel; pure white wings cut off and missing. No longer were wings burning into the ground, now they were fetching a price.

Quite abruptly, Dean entered the room he and Sam were in, making his wings jolt in surprise. "Dean?" he asked, startled.

"I think I found our guy again."

Sam slammed his book shut, "what, where?"

"In town, he is preaching there right now. Internet's gone wild."

Cas frowned, uncertain._ How could he be sure_… "Are you certain? Is he a demon?"

Dean shook his head, "It's the guy from the video, that I'm sure. What he is, I don't know. But the trunk is full, I've got the mark, and we're losing time."

Sam stood up, "Right then, let's get going."

Agreeing, Cas got up, preparing himself to leave. He was looking forward to having his wings hidden once again, and his brethren safe. This had gone on far too long.

Abruptly, Dean put a hand on his shoulder, gentle, but it still stopped him in his tracks. His fingers brushed his wings ever so lightly, and he could help but shiver. He just hoped his wings didn't do the same.

"Oh no, you're staying put."

"I'm an _angel_, Dean."

Dean removed his hand, "Exactly; you are a prime target now."

He flared his wings, spreading them slightly to make himself look bigger; "my brothers and sisters are in danger!"

Instead of backing down, Dean pushed him down into the chair roughly, so his wings folded uncomfortably, "So are you! Angels are dying, Cas. _Dying._ And I can't… I can't-"

With that, Dean turned away, and left.

"He is just doing this because he's afraid to lose you," Sam said softly.

"I know."

And so, Sam left too.

He was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters, I only own the plot, and any oc's.**

**Hypothetically let's just assume that after the fall, angels' wings are not as damaged as the show, well, shows.**

**The story takes place in season 10 after episode 18.**

* * *

_Wings_

Sam followed his brother back into Bunker, having yet failed to find the man in the video once again. At least they had learnt his name, or it's vessels name at least. _Joseph_. Or _Joseph the Saviour_ to his followers. He just kept slipping through their fingers. Hell, he was starting to wonder if they should ask _Hell_. The King of Hell anyway. Dean hadn't responded too well when he had suggested that.

His brother tossed his knife onto the table, Ruby's knife, not _the_ knife. "This is getting ridiculous; how does it keep doing that?"

He sighed, "I don't know," he said, sitting down, exhausted. They managed to find a lair of some sort, whether or not it was one of _it's_, or it's crazy followers, was a different question. They managed to find a couple of angels though, both still with their wings, damaged but white. That suggested that they either had found the guy but scarred him off before he cut for wings off, or someone else just hadn't gotten around to it yet. There was a dead angel there too, wings missing. Well, not missing.

They were hanging on the wall.

Dean had salted burned their body, respectfully. Sam didn't miss the way his eyes had glazed over when they found the body and wings. It wasn't hard for him to imagine what his brother was seeing. He also didn't miss the way his brother's arm seemed to shake, craving for the knife. The angel problem was wearing him thin.

Dean took a seat, slamming his fist down on the table, "It's been two weeks! Two weeks and we still have angels fallen, wings showing, and the _Mark of Cain _looming over me."

"We'll figure it out. We always do," he paused, trying to make eye contact with his brother, "the three of us, Dean."

It was at that moment, that he realised that something was _very_ wrong. "Dean, have you… have you seen Cas?"

He saw his brother pale.

_Well, that answers that question._ He made eye contact with his brother, "Dean, it's okay," he said, trying to keep his own voice calm, "maybe he's in his room, or he followed us."

Dean shook his head, "_No_. no… This can't be happening. I can't lose him too- "

"We'll find him, Dean. Maybe try calling him."

Dean took a shaking breath, nothing. "Cas… are you here?" Nothing. "Cas, please if you can hear me, please show me that you are okay."

Nothing happened, no sound of wings, and no Cas. "Maybe he-"

"Cassie's not here, fellas."

Sam felt his breath taken away.

Standing before them, alive and well, was none other than the archangel Gabriel. _Shirtless._ Not so much as a scratch on him. But most breathtakingly, was the six, _massive_, golden wings, not a single feather out of place. They made him look taller, powerful. Though, the tips of the two lowest wings dragged along the ground, the massive primary feathers a darker gold than the rest.

He took a step forward, "How- "

Gabriel shushed him. "No time to explain. It's a demon, and it's got Cassie," he took a step towards them, "and I know where they are."

Dean shook his head, pointing at the archangel, "then why the hell do you need us?"

Gabriel turned his focus to Dean, suddenly fixated on the mark for a moment. He took a shaky breath and raised his wings like one would their shoulders, "can't get past the warding; so, I need your knuckleheads to break me in."

"Ok, uh…" Sam, against his will, couldn't draw his gaze away from his wings. He had never seen manifested angel wings in such amazing condition before, and they were _gold._

The corner of Gabriel's lips twitched up, "admire me later, moose. We got to save Dean's boyfriend first."

His brother flushed again, and gave a nervous laugh, "what, no. Cas is not, I mean-"

"Done lie to yourself, Dean-o. Besides, we're wasting time," and with that, Gabriel snapped his fingers.

* * *

They arrived at a warehouse, the outside of one anyway. From where he was sat on the ground, feeling nauseous from the flight, the place looked pretty abandoned. There wasn't anything to be seen for miles, except dried grass and a few pines. It was pretty barren.

It was also eerily silent. Too silent_. Must be the warding_, Sam thought.

His brother was still standing, the first to recover from being towed by the archangel; probably used to Cas flying him around "where are we?" he asked.

Gabriel nodded towards the grassy fields, "somewhere in Iowa."

Groaning, he got up and took a better look around. He raised his eyebrows in shock and turned to the Archangel, "you brought the Impala?"

At that, his brother reeled around. Probably worried for the safety of his car, or that Gabriel had turned it pink or something. But alas, his brother's precious car was intact and its normal colour.

Gabriel shrugged, "thought it might come in handy."

With that, they got to work.

His brother got some salt and holy water from the trunk, checked that there was a recorded exorcism, and loaded his shotgun and readied Ruby's knife- both he and Gabriel had managed to convince Dean to leave the first blade; it wasn't worth the risk.

He sighed, "alright, Dean. How about you work on the warding with Gabriel instead."

Dean shook his head, "No. Not this time, Sammy. Cas is in there. I have to be the one to get him out; you get the warding."

"It might be a better idea if you two knuckleheads wait until we break the warding and I get in there before you go all 'knight in shining armour."

He turned to the angel, surprised. Gabriel had a point, who knew how powerful the demon in there was. If it could do that too every angel in existence, then it might be one of stronger ones. Unless he was drawing his power from someone else…

"Samm-o, you with me? Your brother just waltzed on inside the place without you."

_Shit._ "Gabriel, where are the warding?"

Gabriel pointed along the outside of the building, "just below the first row of windows."

He bolted for the warding. They were hidden, but they were there. "Is there a right way to do this?"

"Yeah, here I have a spell."

* * *

He couldn't move, completely unable to help Cas; only able to watch him. He had been such an idiot, coming in here by himself. He wanted to blame it on the mark, but it wasn't that. It was …something else.

Cas was in a bad way, trapped in a ring of holy fire, arms bound above his head. He was looking right at him, but he too was unable to move. He couldn't seem to talk either, just groan or worse. He was bloody all over, coat and shirt lying torn and ripped at his feet. But worst of all was his wings. They were battered, worse than before. Blood stained and torn. It looked like someone had sent the angel through a meat grinder. He started to squirm, eyes growing wide.

The demon had returned.

Joseph had Cas' angel blade with him; twirling it around as it approached Cas, humming something as he crossed over the fire. Cas' breath started to become ragged as the blade drew closer, and almost casually the demon drew it along Cas' chest. At the sound of the angel's whimper, Dean's very soul cried out, and the mark became harder to control.

He let out a low growl; "don't you touch him!"

Joseph chuckled, taking the blade away from Cas' chest, "you like this one, Dean?"

He ignored the comment, "why are you doing this?"

Twirling the blade again, Joseph strode up to him. "It's what my boss wanted, and I got to say, I kind of like it too. Hunting angels is a whole lot easier, and the way people have been listening to me, everybody wants them dead too," his eyes flashed black, "what did you think was going to happen when people find out angels have been here the whole time." Josephs black eyes flickered down to his arm for a moment, and he smiled. "Seems like this isn't your only problem."

He glared, "who's your boss?"

The demon made his way back to Cas, "You've met him; he's a scribe."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"No, sorry," it circled Cas, "you know, when I saw this one; the state its wings were in, I knew he must have done something really bad."

_How dare it…_ "you don't know what you're talking about."

It smirked, tilting its head. "Don't I? Black wings are the mark of evil for angels; Lucifer's wings turned black after his little tumble from heaven."

_What?_ He looked to Cas; he bowed his head, bringing his wings in tighter. _Oh, Cas…_

The demon dug the tip of the blade into Cas' wings, pushing them up, "uh, uh, uh. We can't have that now; you need to keep those _Lucifer_ wings out." Cas squirmed, fighting against the blade, tears beginning to fall.

_Come on Sam…_ He couldn't take this for too much longer, "He is the furthest thing from Lucifer I have ever known," he growled.

Joseph waved the blade around, releasing it from Cas' wings. He gripped one of his wings with his first instead, stretching it out. "So, you know him well than, then I hope you don't mind me doing this." The demon brought the blade down at the base of Cas's left wing, right where it joined with his back; Cas let out a gut retching scream, wings beating wildly as he struggled against his bonds.

"CAS!" he screamed, fighting against whatever it was that was holding him in place, desperate to get to his friend. The blade had cut almost halfway through the first wing, and the demon was still going.

He felt tears roll down his cheeks.

Right when he felt like he was going to empty his stomach, there was a bright light. A bright, gold light. Gabriel was here, and his brother too. He couldn't help but thank God, or maybe the angels. The two of them were suddenly in front of him, charging at the demon; and just as Sam raised his gun, he was thrown back, frozen in place next to him.

It was up to Gabriel now.

He panicked, if Gabriel got fried, then there was no hope for any of them.

Gabriel was relentless, and so as the demon. But Gabriel had his tricks, his grace, and six massive manifested wings. He was at full power; his six massive wings were now doubling as weapons. He threw them all around in whirls of strength as he fought, knocking the demon of his feet; flicking wind into their faces. It reminded Dean that underneath Gabriel's snarky humour, he was a fully powered archangel. _Heaven's mightiest weapon._

It ended quickly, Gabriel didn't even use his angel blade; his eyes turned blue, and he simply pressed two fingers to the demon's skull, earning himself a nick on the wing. Then came the familiar electric like buzzing, the glow, and then the death.

The pressure holding them in place released; they could move again.

"Dean…"

That was all he needed to start running.

He crossed the holy fire; he could deal with that later. There had been a water keg in the car. "He looked to Sam, who was stood by Gabriel. "Sam, can you get the water?"

Sam nodded, leaving the archangel.

Gabriel picked up Cas' angel blade, before making his way over to the table were some paper was placed.

He turned his attention back to Castiel. He was almost unconscious, wings drooping down, dangerously close to the fire. Cas' was close to falling unconcise. Gently, he cupped Cas' cheeks. "Okay, stay with me, Cas. Sam's going to go put out the fire, then were going to go home and patch you up."

Cas swallowed, his blue eyes focused on Dean, for a moment, then they flickered behind him. "…Gabriel?"

Dean turned his head to look at the archangel. His wings were drooping, and he looked exhausted, but not from the fight. He looked relatively stoic, except for his eyes. They were frightened.

"Hey, little brother. I can't come over and help you right now, but I will. I promise."

His own brother returned a moment later, water keg in hand. The fire was out in an instant. No longer under the threat of burnt wings, Dean was able to break through the bonds that held the angel's arms above him. Carefully, he lowered the shaking angel down to the ground with him.

Cas slumped against his chest, exhausted, "hurts…"

He felt his heart break a bit more, "hey, I know. I know," he circled the arm without the mark around the angels lower back, under the frayed wings. "I got you, Cas. I got you." He glanced down at the left wing's base, and how deep the wound went. _A moment longer_… There was so much blood, and not just from the wings. His chest had been cut to ribbons, and he could feel the blood soaking into his own shirt. He looked up at the archangel, now only a foot away, "help him."

Gabriel knelt down before them, Sam following suit, medical kit in hand. The archangel winced, "I …I can heal his vessel, not his grace.

He shook his head, "what does that even mean? Can you or can you not heal him?"

"I can heal the wounds on his chest, but his wings… I'm sure he told you they are a manifestation of his grace. I can't heal grace; that power lies with dad- Cas' wings will have to heal by themselves." he said as he gently placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. There was a flash, and the wounds to Cas' chest were gone.

Dean felt Cas sag against him in relief, head on his shoulder. His wings were still stiff as anything, side the left that hung limply. The dampness on his shirt had disappeared; he supposed that meant the blood was gone.

Sam opened the first aid kit, "good thing I brought this." He shuffled closer to Cas, medical equipment in hand.

Dean watched as his brother set to bandaging the wounds; Gabriel softly reassuring Cas along with himself. The finer details would have to wait until they got back to the bunker. There were so many cuts; and the tips of his wings had been singed, as well as some of the flesh. Sam stopped when he got to the base of the wing. There was a faint blue glow to it, very faint. He looked up, "Dean, I don't know if-"

He tightened his hold on Cas, "do what you can, Sammy."

Sam nodded, and Dean watched as his brother splinted the wing, so it didn't droop and pull further on the wound, before he bandaged around Cas' chest, creating a kind of makeshift sling that kept the wing joined where it had been cut. He felt like he was being stabbed in his own chest every time Cas cried out or tightened the grip on his shirt; it didn't escape his notice that his shirt was becoming damp where the angel lay his head. It felt like hell all over again, and he couldn't even imagine what Cas felt like.

Eventually, Sam pulled away. "That will have to do until we get back to the bunker," he turned to Gabriel, "Gabe …can you?"

Gabriel gave a sad smile and snapped his fingers, "sure thing, kiddo."

* * *

His wing's ached. It felt like they had been drenched in holy fire. His grace burned within them, desperately trying to heal the damage that had been done. It would take time, but his grace could do it, eventually. With help.

"Cas, you're going to have to lie still so I can fix your wings up."

Dean would be that help.

He had felt such hope when Dean had the first burst through that door. It hurt, not being able to speak to him, almost as much as when the demon had cut his wing. He had felt true fear when the demon had come near him with the blade. He thought he was about to lose his wings. For good. And maybe his life. He had been, for a moment, _terrified_. But not because of what he might lose, but for what he would be able to say.

Than Gabriel had arrived. _Gabriel._ He had scarcely believed his eyes, but he was grateful.

He did not know how his brother was alive, but he, as they say, was not complaining.

He had felt such relief when Dean got to him, and even safe. Though, Dean tended to have that effect on him, despite his tendency to engage in recklessness behaviour.

When they had got to the bunker, Dean had given him a change of clothes, which they soon realised was useless side the pants. Dean had promised to buy him a new coat once they figured out what to do with his wings.

Now, he was feeling slightly uncomfortable, lying on his stomach; wings fully exposed. Dean had taken the bandages off his wings so he could tend to the wounds. He didn't like Dean looking at his wings, especially now that Dean knew what their appearance meant. He couldn't help but feel, amongst his pride for his brother's wings, a hint of envy. Gabriel's wings were so pure and undamaged, gold like all archangels- except of course Lucifer. His own wings had been white before …before he did it.

After a while of Dean fussing about the other wounds on his wings, he felt the familiar sting of a needle at the base of his wing, threading through the enflamed flesh. It burned. He was too exhausted to even make a sound.

He gave another sigh of relief when he felt Dean begin to re-bandaged his wings, and very carefully, he sat up, bandages wings hanging over the bed, "thank you, Dean."

"No problem, Cas. I'm just relieved you're safe," Dean said, placing a hand on his shoulder, just barely missing his wings, "Just take it easy okay; you need to rest."

He sighed, relaxing his wings as best he could; he could feel Dean's eyes on them, concerned eyes. He knew the question was coming.

"Cas… Why are your wings black?"

There it was. He let out a shuddery breath, "do you remember what the demon said?"

Dean nodded in confirmation.

"I- The things that I have done, Dean… they were not pure," he paused for a moment, thinking, "the first was when I went to hell for you- "

"Wait, you mean I did this?" Dean sounded horrified, and he recoiled slightly. He sensed Dean felt these emotions towards himself, rather than his wings, which was somewhat reassuring.

He shook his head, "no, of course not. Hell… that was when the first 'blotching' appeared, and the damage began. Though I do not regret pulling you from hell, it got worse from there, releasing the leviathan turned them grey. …the tablet; it was the spell that expelled all angels from heaven that turned them black."

He sensed that Dean wished for him to elaborate further. He sighed, "committing a crime against heaven, angels …or God, is seen as a mark of evil, and so your wings become that mark," he pulled his wings in tighter, ashamed. "I am impure, Dean."

Dean did not say anything, and for a moment he was afraid to turn around, to see the look of disgust in Dean's eyes. He drew his wings in tighter, as close as he could bare.

"Cas, I want you to look at me."

He did as such, and found that Dean's eyes, like before, we're not filled with disgust. This time it was seriousness, mixed with sadness.

"Cas, do you think I am impure because of the mark?"

He thought about this. The mark affected Dean in ways that made him afraid, it was an evil mark. Dean was not. "The mark is impure, Dean. Not you."

"Do you think any less of me because of it?"

He furrowed his brow, "of course not, Dean. You made the decisions you did with good intentions."

Dean gave him a look.

He felt confused, and tilted his head to show it. "I'm afraid I don't understand Dean, what does this- "

"If you think all that about me, then why should I think any less of you?" Dean looked at his wings, "I don't care what colour your wings are; you're not evil, Cas."

He stared at Dean, shocked. He felt something warm inside him; he smiled. "Thank you, Dean ...that means a lot to me."

"And you to me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters, I only own the plot, and any oc's.**

**Hypothetically let's just assume that after the fall, angels' wings are not as damaged as the show, well, shows.**

**The story takes place in season 10 after episode 18.**

* * *

_Wings_

Gabriel looked tired, but not from the fight. He just looked _exhausted_. The only physical wound he had got from the fight was a nick or two on the wings, and the very tips of his longest feathers were slightly singed. Just slightly; it did not take away from the wing's magnificence.

They were gold, but not just a single shade, every sing feather deepened into a darker gold at their tips, speckled with bright golden flakes. At first, Sam thought that Gabriel's wings were covered in gold leaf.

Gabriel's feathers suddenly ruffled under his gaze, and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, "so uh, what's Dean doing with the mark of Cain?"

He sighed, "he… took it to kill Abbadon. We're trying to find a way to get rid of it …do you know-"

Gabriel stiffened, "the mark can only be transferred. It's the only way."

Something was wrong, Gabriel wasn't making eye contact with him, even the archangels wings were drawn in tighter. Gabriel was _lying_…. But he was the trickster, Gabriel didn't let it show when he was lying, so why was it so obvious that he was?

He shook his head, "Gabriel… can the mark be removed?"

Gabriel swallowed, and in a small voice, he whispered, "yes." Slowly, he turned to face Sam, "but you wouldn't like what happens after."

_Oh, does that mean_… "Does Dean- "

Gabriel shook his head, stretching his wings. "No… Dean won't die. Everyone will."

He frowned, "what, how?"

"It releases something."

_Did he mean Lucifer?_ He did not need another apocalypse on his plate. "Releases what?"

Gabriel drew a small shuddery breath, "Darkness."

"I guess we better not remove it than."

With that, they sat in silence, across from one another, thinking. Sam felt _heavy_.

After a while, he sighed, "so …how are we going to reverse the spell? You kind of fried the demon that knew how."

Gabriel winced, wings ruffling a little, "Sorry about that, I got kinda carried away. But I think I have an idea; the script the demon was reading from was an etching of the angel tablet."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, kiddo. Haven't had a chance to look at it though, but there might be something there. If that doesn't work, I have another idea. It will be hard, but it will probably work.

"What is it?"

"A spell, but not one from the angel tablet. Turns things invisible, the wings will still be there- I mean they kind of always are, but at least Cas can wear a shirt again or something.

Sam couldn't stop his eyes from flickering to Gabriel's bare chest. He looked away, embarrassed. "it's worth a shot." He watched as Gabriel's six great wings fold and unfold, emanating a sense of power that came from archangels. Another question occurred to him, "so, how are you back?"

He shrugged his wings, "Chu- uh, God. God brought me back."

He raised his eyebrow at the slip… _what did that mean_? He looked at Gabriel curiously, "why, though?"

Gabriel chuckled, "glad to see you don't see a point to me being here, Sammy," he joked sheepishly.

Well, that decided it; he knew something. He would have to look into that later…he felt pretty certain that it had something to do with 'darkness'. He shook the thought off, turning his attention back to something more… pure. "Uh, your wings look pretty good, Gabe."

"Gabe?" Gabriel smiled.

Sam didn't miss the way Gabriel's golden wings shivered. He tried to ignore that. He failed. _Shit, I'm becoming my brother_. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No, I like it." '

Sam smiled, for the first time in a while, "okay."

* * *

Dean felt exhausted, tired, and relieved. Cas was safe, and that was all that mattered to him right now; and so, he had thought sleep would come easy.

It had not.

He had been planning on going back to his own room, but after he had said goodnight and began to head to his room, Cas had grasped his hand, looking up at him with sad blue eyes.

So, he had stayed. He would never hear the end of it if Sam found out.

Cas, after some arranging, was lying on his stomach on the left side of the bed, the same wing bound against his back to stop it from tearing, the other more relaxed, resting on the mattress.

He was positioned on the seat to the right; he had moved it earlier, so it was closer to the bed, in case Cas had a nightmare or something. Angels weren't meant to sleep normally, so he imagined that it wasn't going to be easy for Cas. That proved to be a wise foresight, for no less than twenty minutes ago, Cas had indeed started to whimper and shake; wings tightening and feathers flaring in fear.

It hadn't been hard for him to imagine what the angel was dreaming about.

Cas needed to sleep though, nightmares or not. It hurt him to do so, knowing all too well how real a dream could feel, especially if it had been real. Eventually, though, the angel had woken with a start, looking around confused. It had broken his heart to see Cas shake like he had, so afraid. Cas had calmed down after a few whispered words, and a comforting hand on his back.

They were both still awake now, Cas staring at him with those same blue eyes. They seemed to be studding him; he found he didn't mind. Cas seemed to have calmed down now, and was as relaxed as he could be given the circumstances. Just breathing; watching.

As Cas continued to study him, he admired Cas' wings. They were beautiful. Scars, battered feathers and all. Hell, he loved the colour. They were the same colour as Baby. That made them even better in his mind. He just had to prove it to him… summoning courage, he spoke, "hey Cas…"

Cas hummed, "yes Dean."

"Can I ...Can I touch your wings?"

There was a silence; Cas just staring at him, though differently; he looked puzzled. Dean prayed he hadn't said something wrong; broken some strange angel social rule or something. He rushed to rescue himself, "I mean, unless that's not allowed or something. I don't care about the colour thing, if that's what the problem is. I just meant- "

"Yes."

He stopped short, surprised. "Really? It doesn't mean something bad for angels or anything?"

Cas flushed, and his feathers ruffled. "no, quite the opposite actually."

Oh. He felt himself flush, "does it mean…"

"No. Angels do not …require that. Complementing an angel's wings is typically seen as a sign of friendship or brotherhood, but the touching and grooming of wings is typically reserved for family and those sharing profound…" Cas trailed off, eyes looking away from his.

_He had said they shared a profound bond before, so why didn't he… did he mean… _"Cas? Profound what?"

Cas' eyes flickered to his for a moment, before looking away again, "love."

He panicked, a million thoughts racing through his head, "well that's okay then. Were family, right Cas?" As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back. He was such an idjit. Cas' disappointed eyes made him feel like he was being stabbed by a blunt knife. _Why can't I just say what I mean!?_

"Yes, Dean," Cas hesitated, "family."

He watched as Cas extended his unhurt right wing, draping it over the mattress. The singed tips of the largest feathers touched his knees ever so lightly- primary feathers, Cas had said they were. He breathed in shakily, feeling like he didn't have the right to touch them. "are you sure, Cas?"

Cas nodded, reassuringly, "please."

Allowing a small smile, he touched one of the primary feathers brushing his knees, and gently he let his fingers run over it, smoothing the edges. Cas shuddered. He drew back, amazed, "can your feathers feel?"

"My grace can."

In wonder, he returned to the wing, this time running his hand gently over several feathers; he heard Cas hum in relaxation. Slightly more confident, he smoothed all the primary's back into shape, careful around the singed tips.

Cas fluffed his feathers, "thank you, Dean," he sighed, looking up, "…could you do that again?"

He chuckled, "of course, Cas."

He continued to run his fingers over the largest feathers, smoothing them all out. They were silky, once he got the dirt off, and a shinier black than he had originally thought. He didn't mind. He liked them better that way. After a while of simply running his fingers though them, enjoying feeling Cas' trustful gaze on him, he moved to sit down on the mattress, next to Cas and below his outstretched wing.

Cas looked at him in confusion.

"Can't reach the rest of your wings in that chair."

Cas looked at him for a moment, "Okay."

"I'll be gentle, I promise."

"I know."

With that, he placed a gentle hand on the actual wing, feeling the soft feathers beneath his fingers. Cas shivered in response. Taking that as a good thing, he continued, running his hand along Cas' wing, careful of the scars and still fresh wounds that covered it as he smoothed over the soft down. Well, feathers, but there was down too. It was easy for him to understand Cas' strength as he felt the strong muscle underneath. He began to knead at the spots still tense from what had happened, soothing the muscle.

Cas hummed happily, closing his eyes.

He smiled, glad to see him relaxing. He made his way down to the rest of the wing, repeating the process. After a while, he found he found that, despite being finished 'grooming' the wing, he was still running his fingers through the feathers. Curiously, he watched the rise and fall of the angel's chest. It was slow. Asleep. Smiling again, he ran his hand through Cas' hair softly. "Night, Cas." _I love you._

* * *

Over the last few weeks, his brother's wings had begun to heal, and the stitching had been able to come out, and the splint removed. The wings still looked pretty beat up, but they didn't seem as though they were going to fall off anytime soon. Dean had made sure of that.

He had been helping Sam track and rescue any wounded angels while Cas healed. They couldn't very well try the spell on injured wings, lest they are able to monitor it. They all new Cas tended to hide physical pain.

The two of them had found a few angels and one or two of them he had convinced Sam was trustworthy enough to stay at the bunker until rested, others he had trouble convincing himself to save.

It had been interesting being able to see all of his brethren's wings, not just in the past few weeks, but since the whole ordeal started. Angels typically had the choice to show their wings or not, and now that they were forced to show them, it was easy to see why some had hidden them. Very few angels had pure white wings. Often, they were tinted with grey or black, or were all over grey. Somewhere even black, like Cas. He supposed though, after seeing Cas' wings, and knowing that his little brother wasn't evil, helped him know that just because some wings were a different colour, it didn't necessarily mean they were evil.

No angel wings actually turned black instantly. They moulted into it, gradually darkening into that colour, or fading back into white.

Nevertheless, Sam and himself had been able to get to know each other better. Well, Sam got to know him better; he always knew Sam. Mary had been right. For both of the Winchester brothers.

He turned to look at the younger Winchester, all long hair and limbs. He had grown so much. Literally and figuratively. He felt, _proud?_ That almost confused him; he had tried so hard not to care, especially when the apocalypse had come around, and then later left.

He sighed, shaking his head. _Bloody Moose._ Faintly, he could hear Dean trying to get his attention; he turned to face him, "yes, squirrel?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, "are certain there is nothing on the etching that could work?"

Gabriel nodded, "yep, checked it twice. There was an awful lot on making them visible, but not much on making them invisible." It was true; there was nothing. It was almost as if the tablet had been made just to destroy all of his brethren, even the ones he actually liked.

Dean shook his head, "now what?"

He shrugged his six wings, "I don't know. Ring of Power, maybe?"

Dean scoffed, stepping closer to Cassie. "be serious, will you."

"That's rich, coming from-"

Sammy clapped his hands together, "okay. I get that were all frustrated, but I think that's enough of that," Sam nodded at him, "Gabe, you said there was a spell?"

He got ready to reply, but then Dean folded his arms, and opened his pie hole, "_Gabe_?"

He shrugged, "I didn't say anything when you started calling my brother Cas," he pointed out, "and yeah, there is another spell. It will make an angel wings invisible, but only for the angel its directed to. I'll have to put the spell over angel radio, and each angel will have to do the spell themselves."

Dean looked at Castiel for a moment, and spread his arms in question, "so what are we waiting for?"

"You have to do something. _Say_ something; _mean _something."

Dean gestured around, eyes wondering around the library, "okay what?"

He smiled, though inside he was a tad worried, "the spell hasn't been done before. It has to be done a specific way the first time before it's used again. It needs a little magic."

"Okay, do we need to call Rowena?"

He shook his head, "not that kind of magic, kiddo. It needs a true, untainted emotion. And a strong one," he looked at Dean knowingly. He wasn't worried about whether or not Dean felt that kind of emotion towards Cas or vice versa, but rather if Dean could admit it or not. Out loud.

Dean withdrew, looking panicked at Cas- who looked equally anxious. "I don't know- I can't- I mean, what if-"

Sam placed a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder, "Dean. It's okay," he looked at Cas with those puppy eyes of his.

Cassie, understanding, followed Sam's lead, stepping in front of the older Winchester so he could face him.

Sam moved to stand by his side, watching with him as the scene played out. He watched in awe as Castiel wrapped his right wing around Dean, the other following after, more loosely. Castiel didn't say anything; he just looked into Dean's eyes soulfully; honestly, and nodded.

* * *

This was too much, no, so much. Dean could feel Cas' wings around him, warm and pure. They felt safe, powerful, even in the state they were in. Maybe it was just Cas. He stumbled for words for a moment, unsure of what to do, before he shakily, encircling his arms around Cas' waist. "what… what now?"

Gabriel smiled at them, "just repeat the words in English after me, and feel the words. They are in Latin, but if what you feel is true, the meaning will be clear."

Dean wondered what the archangel could mean as he heard him say 'ille dilexit genus humanum, et humanum dilexit eum."

He didn't know these words, but Cas seemed to, baced upon his shocked expression. After a moment, he felt the meaning become clear in his mind, and with a shaky voice he said, "he loved humanity, and humanity loved him." He felt Castiel tighten his wings around him.

"Sed in loco qui dixit: Mihi opus vestrum."

This time, Castiel gasped. Dean, after a moment, soon realised why. Cas had finally figured it out. He laughed, a sad laugh, "But instead he said I need you, and he did."

"Ut animum dulcedine ad operandum."

Dean glanced at Cas's wings, "In order to work the spell."

"Quod necesse est dicere quod ille dilexit eum."

Castiel flushed, looking away. Dean felt his heart break; he hugged the angel reassuringly, regaining eye contact with the angel. It was now or never. "It must be said that- …it must be said that he loves him."

"Quod dilectio debet esse vera."

Dean blinked, weighing the words. He drew a deep breath, praying his voice would not break, "that love must be true."

"et pura."

"And pure."

"Et absque omni condicione."

"And without any condition."

Gabriel let out a breath, "okay, now you got to say it, Dean. And it has to be like what you just spoke"

Dean didn't turn to face him, to frozen with fear. This was the ultimate test. If what he said turned out not to be true, than Cas would know it. All of them would know it. If those beautiful wings didn't turn invisible, it would mean… it would mean he or Cas didn't… He couldn't bring himself to think such a thing.

Cas had looked away again, though Dean could see his red eyes. He reached up and cupped one of Cas' cheeks, gently guiding his head back. "Cas… I don't know where to start."

Cas nodded, leaning into his touch slightly.

"What does he mean to you, Dean?" Gabriel prompted.

He didn't skip a beat, "everything."

Castiel pursed his lips for a moment, shocked, "Dean…"

He shushed him, shaking his head, "not, not this time Cas. I'm going to say this right; because it's true, you do mean everything to me, Cas."

Castiel shook his head, "Dean, you don't have to say this; not if you do not mean it; we can find another spell-"

"I do mean it, Cas," Dean argued, running his hands down the angel's forearms, shaking, "and I do have to say it, spell or not. I have waited far too long, said something else too many times, Cas. I need to do this, and I'm sorry if I hurt you in not doing so earlier."

Jaw quivering, Cas gave a shaky nod, "I …I forgive you."

"I know, you always do. Even if I don't deserve it," he said, shushing the angel again when he saw him move to protest, "You have never given up on me, and I will never give up on you. Were family Cas."

Cas looked away again, to Sam, "were brothers, you mean. That kind of bond… that kind of love will work for the spell."

He drew back, anxiety rising "no, Cas. We're not brothers; we have a different kind of bond, Cas," he waited for Cas to turn his face back to him, anticipation rising in his chest, his heart beating rapidly, "a different kind of love." He reassuringly brought his shaking hands up to Cas biceps, and ran them up to his shoulders.

Cas returned the embrace, this time wrapping his arms around him alongside the wings. "What… what does that make us, Dean."

"I don't know, Cas," he sighed, drawing Cas in close, resting his head on the angel's shoulder as he reached a hand up to hold the back of Cas' neck, fingers running though his soft hair. Sighing, he relished in the embrace, wishing he could stay in this moment, where all seemed well. He drew a deep breath, looking straight into those beautiful blue eyes, praying that his next words rang true. "All I know is that I do, and always will love you."

Cas stared at him for a moment, lips pursed.

Then Dean saw the most beautiful thing his eyes were ever graced with. More beautiful even, than Cas' wings. He saw Cas smile. A wide, toothy smile. After a moment, anther look came upon his face, one of deep concentration. Very seriously, Cas looked up into his eyes, hands coming to rest behind his neck, "I know." Then, Cas kissed him.

* * *

Sam watched in awe as the scene unfolded before him. _It actually happened_. He could scarcely belief his eyes. He had waited six years for this. _Six_. The longing stares would finally stop! He had never been so happy in his life. Well, maybe, but this came pretty close. It helped that Cas had actually Han Solo'd Dean. Gleefully, he turned to Gabe.

Gabe smiled back at him, "turn in alis invisibilia."

Holding his breath, he turned his attention back to Dean and Cas. Neither of the two broken their kiss, but the wings folded around Dean gradually faded away. Invisible, but still there.

Gabe looked to him, "now the spell will work for all," he said.

Understanding, but slightly reluctant, Sam nodded and repeated the spell back at Gabriel. "turn in alis invisibilia."

As expected, those amazing golden wings began to fade as well. He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. He had enjoyed looking at their magnificence. Dejectedly, he looked away as Gabriel manifested clothing over his torso.

"Their still there, Sambo. You'll see them again," Gabriel winked.

Sam sighed, "well, time to spread the word."

* * *

Cas had been so afraid only a few hours ago, when the spell was yet to be spoken, but now he felt no fear. At least, none about whether or not Dean shared his feelings. He didn't feel the flustered feeling in his stomach or the feather lightness that people often described when falling in love. Though, he supposed he had fallen a long time ago. He fell for Dean the moment he pulled his broken soul from perdition and pieced it back together.

Now, he was comfortable and content. Like he always was with Dean. He couldn't explain what he was feeling. It was warmth, bliss and contentment; it was passion, belonging and devotion. It was being able to know that no matter what happened, he would always have someone who accepted him. It was love.

And finally, he knew it was shared.

Wordlessly, he wrapped his coat tighter around himself, beyond happiness. Dean had apparently bought him a new coat not long after his wings had torn his old one, and had saved it for when his wings would allow clothing over them. It was much like the first coat he had owned, longer, and with a tassel. Dean had originally protested him getting into bed with it on, but he had used the 'puppy eyes' as Sam had advised. Dean had changed his mind very quickly.

He smiled warmly, looking at Deans closed eyes, imagining the green underneath. He could tell Dean was not asleep, but rather in a deep state of relaxation. It was nice to observe; he didn't need to sleep now that his wings were healed, but he would like to experience it with Dean, without nightmares.

After a moment, he pulled Dean closer to his chest with his hidden wings, wrapping them around him protectively. He felt Dean freeze for a moment, before he relaxed and returned the embrace. They lay like that for a moment, and he couldn't help but sigh happily when he felt Dean run his fingers through the feathers at the base of his wings, invisible as they were.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, something Sam had advised he say to Dean to let his feelings known. He supposed they were known now, but it would not do any harm to reinforce it. "Dean?" he asked.

Dean hummed, "yeah, Cas?"

"I'm not the Impala, but you can call me baby."

For a moment, Dean did not react. Then, to his horror, Dean began to shake against his chest. "Dean? Dean, I'm sorry; did I say something wrong?"

Dean, still shaking pulled away from his chest, and to Cas' surprise, he discovered that Dean was not crying, but …_laughing?_ He was even more shocked when he felt himself being pulled to Dean's own chest, his lips pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"No. No Cas. You didn't say anything wrong," Dean smiled, still laughing.

He frowned, confused, "then why are you laughing?"

"Because I love you."

He relaxed, "and I you."

"I know."


End file.
